Karl's Collection
by Combination-NC
Summary: Collection of Karl-related little ficlets, mostly written for prompts. Anders has strange ideas and Karl is a bit of a sceptic, but there are some happy times. Then unhappy times; the Rite of Tranquility.
1. Acorn Adventures

They were curled up in the lower bunk together, Anders on his back with his head in Karl's lap and with Karl's fingers in his hair, gently detangling it only to make new tangles afterwards. Anders sighed, close to being content. He hated the tower, but he had missed this.

"The worst part was the acorns," he said, halfway through his second retelling of his most recent escape, mentally adding _besides being caught_.

"…Acorns?"

"They make the _worst_ sound when you step on one. It's hard to explain, it's really something you have to _experience_ to fully understand. You should come with me, next time. I'll show you."

He might say it with a mischievous smile, but he meant it with all his heart. Karl should come with him.


	2. Wrath

Carver watched in horror as the apostate let himself be consumed by a blue fury, moving towards the templars with unnatural speed, shouting with a voice not from _this_ side of the veil.

He had spent his whole life around mages, seen magic for as far back as he could remember – but it had never been anything like this, not even close. Bethany had never wielded her powers in anger, and neither had his father even though the man had experienced many things that could have given him reason to.

Not even Garrett would make flesh melt beyond recognition, rip limbs from armoured bodies and toss them aside as if they did not weight anything at all, or as if the action did not _mean_ anything at all.

When the apostate – the _abomination_ – returned to himself, the way he touched and looked at the branded man made Carver avert his gaze, feeling like an intruder. He understood that anger and desperation better, then.


	3. Before The Rite

This was it. The bastards had even gagged him, to make sure he would not bite his tongue off to escape in the only way left to him now. They needed him alive and willing to provide them with information, everything he knew about Anders and his whereabouts, the rebellion, any and all plans.

They were going to make him Tranquil to make him talk.

He would retain all his memories, but none of the feelings they held. His memories in an otherwise empty shell, his soul gone along with his magic.

He doubted that he would be able to retain his loyalty to Anders after the rite had been completed. They had attempted to make him talk, make deals, bribe him with promises of safety and of transfer to another Circle. All he had to do was tell them what they wanted to know. As if they _actually_ thought he would ever consider doing such a thing.

Forcing to keep his back straight and head held high, he stared at the brand with all the defiance he had left in him.

There were things more important than his own life.

His last thought as _himself_ was one of hope; hope that at least Anders would be able to get away and not fall for the trap in store for him.


	4. Anders VS Reality

"Who's a good kitty, Mister Wiggums? You are! _Yes_ you _are!_" Anders cooed at the cat in that silly voice of his that he kept reserved for fluffy animals. Karl sighed. They must look ridiculous, he with half of Anders in his lap, and Anders with all of Mister Wiggums on his chest. Scratching him, shedding hairs everywhere. He had hoped for some alone time with Anders, and then the cat came along. Anders could never resist a cat.

_No, bad kitty_, Karl thought to himself. _Bad._

It was nice to see Anders in a cheerful mood, though.

"I wonder if there is a spell to make you bigger… if I find one, will you attack the templars for me, then?" The cat meowed, the sound open for any interpretation of Anders' choosing. "Oh! _Yes you will!_ Of _course_ you will, you will maul them _all_. Good kitty!"

Cheerful, yet morbid. It was good enough.

Anders let his attention wander from Mister Wiggums for a moment, to look at Karl with sudden seriousness.

"I want a spell like that. To make him big enough to ride, right out of here."

Karl bent down to kiss his forehead. "I know," he said. "Reality does not work like that, though."

"Pah. I reject your reality! I will substitute it with my own. I will –"

Mister Wiggums choose that moment to move, and sit on Anders' head instead of his chest. Karl reached out to scratch him behind an orange ear.

"_Good_ kitty."


End file.
